


if i lay here

by noahloveszombies



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Permadeath, Unhappy Ending, and tommy cannot deal with it, no beta we die like tubbo, no respawn, theres not a lot more i can tag this with, tubbo dies in the final war on nov 16th, ummm - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27587825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noahloveszombies/pseuds/noahloveszombies
Summary: if i just lay here / would you lie with me / and just forget the world?or; schlatt makes a tactical decision. tommy pays the price.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, if you ship them youre actually disgusting.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 89





	if i lay here

**Author's Note:**

> ummm hi lawl this was basically just one big vent fic. if you ship tommy and tubbo get the fuck out btw. friends can say i love you to eachother get it through your freak heads. ummm im rlly goin thru it so kind comments are super duper appreciated :)!

tommy knew he was naïve. that he hoped for the best, when in reality, none of it would happen.  he knows that the risks are high. schlatt's kicked the server into hardcore mode, probably hoping to discourage them from fighting- no respawn, you die for good. tommy knows that his dream of no casualties caused by this battle is equally unrealistic as his dreams to run away, or to solve this whole thing by himself and emerge victorious with a crown atop his blonde head.

tubbo is killed in the war. tommy is distracted by trying to defend his brothers, and the fighters of pogtopia, pushing along the front lines with a shield in hand. he doesn't hear about it until hours after they declare victory, when he asks of tubbo's whereabouts, thinking schlatt may have dragged him into exile. the news is shared, though reluctantly, and  at first, he's rooted in disbelief. he excuses himself from the room, forcing his voice not to wobble, and holes away in his old bedroom, from before any of the wars- the sheets are too clean, the room stripped bare of any possessions. it feels too empty. maybe it's because his best friend is absent.

he tries to text tubbo for weeks, in between attempting to pretend he was fine, desperate for any sign of life. desperate for something to cling onto, to disprove everybody else, something to reassure him that he hadn't lost his best friend.

when it finally sinks in, it's like his heart is being shattered into pieces, over, and over, and  _ over. _ he texts tubbo, with the knowledge he'll never see the messages. tells him he's sorry. he should've been there. it's all his fault.  tommy tells tubbo that he loves him. more than anything. more than every star in the sky. and he's sorry he never said it nearly enough.  he's sorry for abandoning tubbo during the war. for treating him so poorly. he should've been more appreciative.

tommy sets his communicator down onto the bedside table, and sobs. the tears just keep coming. he cries for hours, entire body aching with grief, mourning, regret,  _ loss. _ listens to the playlist tubbo had made for him, full of sappy things that sum them up far too well.  he rolls onto his side, leaving a gap, and stares at the empty half of the bed, wondering if tubbo were there, invisible to tommy, smiling as he hummed their song. it wasn't on a disc, but it was _their_ song.

fuck. his eyes are watering again.

"i miss you," he says into the darkness, and when nobody replies, the shoddily constructed dam breaks once again. "so much."

he misses laying opposite tubbo, laughing and telling each other whispered jokes. he misses the grin that would spread across tubbo's face when he spotted a flower field, yelling about bees. he misses play fighting with tubbo, covering their jeans with grass stains and mud. he misses listening to their discs together.  tommy grieves. mourns. sobs into his pillow, and wishes that things had gone differently, and  _ hates himself _ for not being there when he was needed. when he could've protected tubbo, who would always complain about how he didn't need protecting.

for the longest time, he can't bring himself to leave the comfort of his sheets. it feels like the life's been sucked out of him, fresh tears continuously surfacing as he keeps thinking, over and over,  _ he's gone for good. _ and tommy could've stopped it.  it's like a part of him has been torn out, painfully but too quick for him to do anything, and destroyed in front of him. he barely feels whole. barely feels like himself. barely feels anything except for longing, for desperate hope, for a kind of grieving that cleaves right through him and leaves him in pieces.

l'manberg has won. he should be rejoicing at the freedom of their country, but instead, he mourns.

  
  
  


tommy wills himself to get out of bed a night or so later. he stares up at the stars, and thinks that tubbo deserves to be among them. a light. a perpetual goodness.  the walk to his best friend's house feels too quiet, and stepping indoors without a sound to be heard from within feels even worse.

dust coats the counters. the only background noise provided is tubbo's bees, the hive in the backyard quiet but still semi-active, still self-sufficient, loyally continuing his legacy.  tubbo's communicator has been left on the kitchen table. tommy doesn't take it, but he gently tugs the bee charm off, and puts it on his own, next to the moobloom. they'd been matching gifts for each other.

the next thing he takes is a framed photograph of them. it had been tubbo's favorite, of them in a flower field overflowing with bees. tommy was grinning. tubbo was mid-laugh. he puts it in his inventory, and tries to avoid eye contact.

tubbo's room is the same as he remembers it- still slightly disorganized, but tidy enough.  there's a stuffed bee, sitting on the bed on its side. tommy had bought it for tubbo for his birthday, watching as the huge grin appeared on his face, as tubbo proudly declared he'd treasure it.  tommy scoops it into his arms. tubbo would probably be happy to know his bee would remain well cared for.

he leaves the house in silence, the wind blowing into his face making the tear tracks seem slightly uneven. as he walks, he stares at the green bandana tied around his wrist- they'd traded before the final push. just in case.

just in case.

  
  
  


there's a knock at the door the next morning, which manages to throw tommy out of his light, brief sleep, as he raises his head to watch it open.

dad.

phil smiles at him as he gently shuts the door, and strides over to the bed. "hey." his voice is gentle, calming, low. it's a comfort.  tommy's voice protests from disuse, used to only sobbing and repeating short sentences to the air in front of him, but he manages a greeting.

"i heard." phil sounds concerned, but understanding. worried, but loving.

tommy wraps his arms around his dad and breaks down into sobs, crying into his shirt. phil holds him close, wings surrounding them both protectively.

no amount of tears will ever bring tubbo back.


End file.
